50 #2
Gods. He turns me into something dark and savage. Something I shouldn’t want to be. And the worst part is knowing I let him.
I snap out of my ecstasy and manage enough self-control to step back.
His eyes glitter like midnight as he watches me, his glorious wings blotting out the moon behind him.
“Take me back,” I say breathlessly, but impressed that I manage to sound halfway collected, hiding the way my feelings and sensations are fighting inside of me.
“You could stay for tonight.” His voice is rough, and it sounds far more like an order than an offer.
“Yeah, I could, but since I’m not sure what exactly you’re going to do to me, I’d really like to return to my rooms.”
“Oh, I can tell you exactly what I’m planning to do to you,” he says in that deep voice that almost gets me off again.
Hells. I want to stay. I want him to ravage me. Destroy me. Eat me alive.
And he knows it. The damn bastard knows it.
I cross my arms, desperately trying to get some logical sense back into my damn brain.
“Please give me a t-shirt, and please take me back,” I try again, as sudden panic surges in me when I can’t reach Aris over the bond.
He would be devastated. Driven insane by worry if I don’t come home after Caryan took me.
“I think not,” Caryan has the nerve to say.
I scowl at him. “Take. Me. Back.”
He just cocks an eyebrow, and I sigh, turning my back on him. He growls ferally, and I swear every hair on my body stands up at the sound, every inch of me screaming to turn back around and bow. Because turning my back on a fae is the worst form of impudence. And he’s still a king.
But I refuse to give in to my fear and stalk away instead, over to a wardrobe of some kind that’s been built into the wall. I start to fish through his clothes and pull out a large shirt that comes pretty close to a human-world t-shirt. I strip mine off the very moment he appears behind me.
“I should teach you manners. No one turns their back on me,” he snarls.
I force myself not to flinch. To ignore the sheer assholey dominance in his words. I decide to turn around with my chest bare and cock an eyebrow, although the blood filling my cheeks is probably enough to give away my inner misery.
“Hm, what would you like to do to me? Tie me to the bedpost? Or spank me?” I chirp with a lightness I sure as hells do not feel. Because the way Caryan stands there, his eyes as dark as the gaps between stars, fixing me with that gaze, leaves my knees weak with fear.
“You could try dripping wax, because I particularly dislike being burned,” I offer.
I swear his eyes gain an even darker shade of black. His magic wafts off his shoulders, curling around his massive wings as his eyes rove over me, hovering on my still-hard nipples.
His gaze alone makes my breath quicken. Because he looks ravenous.
And that’s when I turn away from him again.
He growls in a way that makes it sound as if a flesh-eating, dragon-sized monster is standing behind me and not a man. Then his hand lashes out, strong fingers fisting my hair as he yanks me close.
“Let me go,” I demand.
“No. I’m going to teach you a little lesson about respect. I won’t have you turning your back on me ever again unless I tell you to do so.”
He presses me against the wall so my face connects with it hard. One hand is splayed against my head, the other around my wrist, hard enough to bruise.
Magic eats away my clothes until I’m wearing only my underwear.
He pries my legs apart and stands between them a second later. I gasp as his dark magic slips under my panties, playing around my center, running over me like a silky tongue.
“Let me go,” I say again, and it takes everything I have not to give in to this fucked-up powerplay. Not to shift to get more friction or press my pelvis against his hardness. Not to beg him to just take me.
I find his hands at the hem of my panties and freeze.
“No. Not like that,” I pant, grabbing his hand, as if I could stop him. I want to turn around, but he just shoves me against the wall harder.
“Apologize,” he drawls, his fingers grazing the delicate skin just above my clit. “Or next time, I’ll make you kneel at my feet and beg me for forgiveness.”
“Oh, get over yourself.” I squirm in his hold, trying another attempt to turn around and, this time, he lets me.
But when I try to shove him off me, his fingers close around my neck hard enough to hurt me. And there it is again. The monster I fled that night. How could I ever think that he wouldn’t hurt me again?
My heart pounds wildly, madly, against my chest.
I lift my eyes to his, refusing to cower at his gaze. “This what you like? Hurting me when you feel like it? Shoving me in the dirt? Making me kiss your feet? Is this what turns you on?”
I swear I see a fissure running through his eyes, a yawning abyss opening up behind them. He’s ancient, and I swear eternity is gazing back at me in all the cruel and unspeakable things he has done.
Suddenly, I’m all too aware of what he really is—maybe the most powerful creature in this world.
And what that makes me. A silly, foolish, na?ve girl.
In that moment, I understand what I am to him, and why he must feel this way.
Why he loathes me—and the bond between us.
I’m nothing but a breath in his life. A wisp of air, here and gone again. A cruel joke played on him by fate.
If anything at all, I’m a plaything.
Something he might even find amusing sometimes.
But I’ll never be anything more to him than a shackle. A shackle for someone who can’t be truly leashed. Here I am, a weight around his ankle he can’t shake off.
And a deep, hidden part of him hates me for it.
“Let me go,” I say again, and this time my voice quavers, betraying me.
“No,” is all he says before his lips crash against mine.
It hurts, the way he kisses me, his fingers prying my jaw open. Bruising me to the point where he’s almost breaking my bones. His tongue shoves down my throat at the same time his dark magic licks along my center once again.
Finally, he pulls back, but only just so. Both he and I are breathless. My lips are raw, ravaged, my skin where he touched me throbbing with pain. He’s staring at me like a predator ready to lunge. And devour me.
Before I know what I’m doing, I slap him across the face with all the force I can muster. He blinks, once, twice, and when his eyes find mine again, I know that I’m dead.
He comes for me again—hands closing around my wrists like shackles—yanking me against his hard body.
The world spins, warps, and disappears into darkness.